6. VISITOR
Sleeping in the same corner where he had slept so many times, Pal moanedsoftly and twitched his paws. He dreamed that things were as they hadonce been and that he was hunting grouse with Johnny Blazer. Pacingahead, Pal scented a grouse and showed Johnny where it was. There camethe shotgun's blast. The dream faded and Pal woke up.
Instantly things resumed a normal perspective. The scent of Jeff Tarrantfilled the cabin and mingled with it was the odor of Dan Blazer. Palremembered meeting Dan before. Every summer, but never for more than tendays at a time, Johnny had brought him to the cabin for a visit.
Though Pal liked all children, he saw only an incidental connectionbetween Johnny and Dan Blazer. However, if only because Johnny had oncewelcomed the boy and Jeff was now welcoming him, Pal was happy to acceptDan too and to include him in the select circle of intimates whodeserved every courtesy. Next to Jeff, he would respect Dan.
Though his nose told him that all was well, Pal did not go back to sleepat once. The dream had been a very vivid one and it brought a surge ofmemories that were strengthened by being back at his old home. The pastremained a puzzle. Pal had never understood why Johnny had disappeared,he still did not understand, and he was troubled because of it.
Having a dog's instinct for time, he knew that the night was about halfgone, and because he was familiar with the habits of humans, he wasaware that Jeff and Dan probably would not get out of bed beforesunrise. Equally at home in daylight or darkness, Pal had never knownwhy people preferred to spend the night hours in a cabin or shelter buthe had never questioned their doing so. They were humans. He was a dog.Therefore, it always befitted him to shape himself to their ways andnever even think that they should bend to his.
Sometimes Johnny had taken him out at night to hunt coon, and Pal ratherhoped that Jeff would do the same because he liked to run at night. Butit would be all right if Jeff did not.
After a short time, needing contact more intimate than his nose offered,Pal rose and padded across the wooden floor. He ascended the steps,walking quietly because experience had taught him to be quiet. Palexisted to please his master and his whole life must be shaped to thatpurpose. There were no delights which, directly or indirectly, were notconnected with that. When Johnny had patted his head and praised him,Pal had quivered with joy. Now he reacted in the same fashion to Jeffand his life was a full one.
He ascended the steps, walked to the bunks that Jeff and Dan occupied,sniffed gently at each, and went back to his place in the corner. He hadmade doubly sure that Jeff was still present and that partiallysatisfied him. But because the dream and the cabin brought Johnny backto him, he was still able to sleep only fitfully. Pal recalled lastnight.
He had been very worried when Jeff went away and left him in the cabin.Ordinarily it would have been routine, for Johnny had often left himalone. But a great fear had grown out of Johnny's death. Pal had seenhim leave and been sure he'd come back, but he never had. Now he wasfearful that Jeff might not return. Dan, who understood, had tried togive him comfort.
"He'll come back. Don't you worry. He'll come back."
But Pal would not rest until Jeff's return and then he was happy again.He wagged his tail because the two in the cabin greeted each othergladly, and he drooled at the odor of frying pork chops. Eating hisshare, Pal looked puzzled when Dan started to wash the dishes and Jeffbegan to work with the broom.
In Pal's opinion the cabin was satisfactory, and he had never understoodthe quirks of humans that kept them forever doing something that did notlook like fun and seemed unnecessary. But Pal resigned himself to thecleaning up. He flattened his ears and retreated into a corner. Hedodged from place to place whenever the broom came near, and relaxed inhis own corner only when Jeff finally put the broom down and startedreplacing the broken window panes. Unoccupied, and thought deserted, thecabin had been rifled of many things belonging to Johnny. But there wereenough dishes and tableware left, for Johnny had kept a great store ofit to provide for his guests.
Dan yawned and Jeff sent him to bed, but the young peddler worked for along while afterward. Finally, giving Pal a pat on the head, he toosought one of the upstairs bunks.
Now Pal raised his head at frequent intervals. He had a great yearningto visit again the sycamore tree--the last place where he'd seen Johnny,but the door was locked. If the customary routine was followed, it wouldnot be opened until Jeff and Dan got up. Rising, Pal walked nervouslyaround the cabin, sniffing at all the objects he knew so well. He wentto his corner and did not leave it again until dawn's thin light turnedthe cabin's black windows to pale gray.
He heard a bunk creak as Jeff moved, and raised expectant ears. For ashort interval there was silence. Then came Dan's sleepy voice.
"You awake, Jeff?"
"Nope. I'm sound asleep."
Pal heard Dan giggle. There were various little noises that accompaniedtheir getting out of bed and dressing. Tail wagging happily, Pal metthem at the foot of the stairs. He went first to Jeff, who gave him apat on the head, then he offered his morning greeting to Dan. Theseceremonies complete, he padded over to stand in front of the door. Jeffunderstood.
"I'll let you out."
Pal slipped through the opened door and waited for a while in front ofthe cabin. This was his country, but he had not forgotten that it hadrejected him. He had walked safely with Johnny Blazer, but he had beenclubbed and stoned after Johnny was no longer with him. The lesson hadpenetrated deeply.
When Pal finally left the cabin, he did not go down the path but went atonce into the brush and walked slowly. Alone, he had better becareful.... He stopped when he caught the scent of a rabbit that washiding in the brush. For a moment he was tempted to chase it becausechasing rabbits was fun. But this morning he had a more urgent mission.Still walking slowly, nose questing and ears alert, he made his way tothe road and halted in some thick brush beside it. He would not exposehimself on the open road until he knew what lay ahead.
Across the road, and up the opposite slope, a doe and fawn were feeding.Pal caught the faint odor of grouse, and he knew that a skunk hadwandered that way last night. Later, a fox had minced along.
The nearest human scents were those of Dan and Jeff, and as soon as hewas sure of that, Pal considered himself safe. He ventured into andmoved slowly down the road, but as he drew near the big sycamore hebroke into an eager trot. It was at the sycamore that he had last seenJohnny Blazer, and there that he had lost all trace of him. Now hewanted to find if there was anything he might have overlooked.
He had given up all hope of finding Johnny; his long search hadconvinced him that his former master would never be found. But notforgotten, never to be forgotten, was his long association with Johnny,his love for him, and the good life they had lived together. Pal wasgoing to the sycamore for the same reason that a human being rereads oldletters written by a dear companion whom he will never see again. Oncemore he stopped to read the wind currents and the tracks in the road.Besides the fox and skunk, only Jeff's scent remained right there.Therefore Jeff was the only human who had used the road last night. ButPal caught the fainter scents of Smithville and the people inhabitingit. They were distant odors and no one was coming. He gave undividedattention to the sycamore.
Winds had blown and rains had fallen, but Johnny Blazer had bled hereand his scent still lingered. Pal drank long and deeply of it. He made alittle circle, as though the scent should lead him farther. But it endedat the tree, and the dog came back to sniff again. He moaned softly inhis throat, because his affection for Johnny had been great. ButJohnny's scent ended where it began, at the sycamore. About to castagain, Pal halted in his tracks.
The morning breeze blew directly from Smithville to him, and the breezehad told him that nobody was coming. Now that was changed. Clearly Palcaught the scent of Pete Whitney and he knew that Pete was walking upthe road. The dog bristled, but not because he saw any connectionbetween Pete and Johnny's disappearance. He knew only that all Whitneyswere enemies and that Pete ha
d been near when Johnny was hurt.
He crouched in the brush, undecided for the moment. If he lay perfectlystill, Pete probably would pass without seeing him. But as the man drewnearer, Pal's nervousness increased. He decided suddenly that he wouldbe safer with Jeff.
Pete was just a short distance away when Pal cleared the road in onebound and raced toward the cabin. The dog knew that he had been seen,but he did not care. The one dangerous time had been the fleetinginstant he'd needed to cross the road and that was dangerous onlybecause the road offered no cover. Once in the brush, he could run awayfrom any man.
He found Dan drawing water from the spring beside the cabin and slowedto a walk. Because he had run hard, he was panting. He paused veryclose to the boy and looked nervously back toward the road. Dan staredcuriously at him.
"What's down there?" he questioned. "What'd you find, Pal?"
The great dog turned toward Dan and wagged his tail as evidence of goodwill. But his hackles remained raised as he accompanied the boy into thecabin. The good smell of frying bacon perfumed the air. Standing overthe stove, Jeff looked around questioningly.
"Isn't that bucket a load for you, Dan?"
"Nah! I can carry it."
Jeff grinned. Most boys were proud of their physical prowess and he hadnot offended Dan by offering to draw the water for him. He broke eggsinto the sputtering skillet. Pal growled and Jeff turned again to look.
"What's ailing him?"
"I don't know. He must have smelled something he don't like. When hecame up to me, he was running."
Pal, knowing that Pete Whitney was coming toward the cabin, retreated tothe far end of the room and stood. Still bristling, he showed his teeth.Jeff was puzzled.
"What's the--?"
"Something's around," Dan said quickly. He looked out of the window."Jeff! Pete Whitney's coming!"
Eyes blazing, he looked toward the shotgun. Jeff saw and interpreted hisglance.
"Remember! We're not going off half-cocked."
"Uh--All right."
Jeff opened the door and saw the man standing in front of the cabin.Pete Whitney's clothing was slipshod, but that alone did not give himthe air he had. Jeff was not able to place it at once. There wassomething about him that should not be, something very like a surlyanimal. About thirty, Pete had fine blond hair that seemed rooted soprecariously that the slightest wind might blow it away. His unshavencheeks were covered with stubble.
Pale blue eyes shifted sideways, and he raised a foot as though about torun. Yet, at the same time, it was as though he had no intention ofrunning. As far as Jeff could see, he carried no firearms, but he actedas though he were armed, and doubtless he was. Mentally, Jeff comparedhim to the man he had met yesterday. That man had also been careless ofhis clothing and appearance, but there was a strength and character inhis being that was not evident in Pete. Barr Whitney was strong. Petewas weak.
Jeff asked pleasantly, "Something I can do for you?"
"Nao." Pete spoke with a high nasal twang. "You live here?"
"Since yesterday," Jeff said. "Dan and I are here together."
"I swan!" Pete ejaculated. "I swan!"
Jeff saw that he was obviously frightened. In spite of the fact that heseemed to be a man who would take fright easily, he might need help.
"Are you in trouble?"
"Nao. It's jest that I was passin' up the raoad an'--an'--" He blurtedout. "I swan I saw Johnny Blazer's big dog!"
Jeff thought swiftly. Why should seeing Johnny Blazer's dog be cause forsuch alarm? He asked casually, "Where'd you see him?"
"Down thar on the raoad! I swan--a ha'nt dog!"
Jeff understood and relaxed. Many of the mountain people believedfirmly in haunts, spirits and witchcraft. And everybody aroundSmithville had reason to believe that Pal must be dead. With an effort,Jeff concealed his amusement. A man such as this, thinking JohnnyBlazer's dog dead and coming suddenly upon him, might tremble easily.
"You did see him," Jeff said. "He's here."
"He be?"
For a split second, Pete's eyes lost their lack-luster appearance andvenom flooded them. A cold finger brushed Jeff's spine. Any man able tolook like that was a dangerous one. Jeff thought of his pack and of theshotgun in its corner. Then he decided that he could handle Pete, andmeanwhile there were the amenities to be observed.
"Had breakfast?"
"Nao."
"Come on in and have some."
Pete shuffled into the cabin. Mouth taut and eyes angry, Dan backedtoward Pal. The dog growled savagely. Jeff's eyes caught Dan's and hetried to flash a warning. He and Dan had a pact which included no hastyor ill-timed moves and definitely no shooting of anyone. Jeff spokesharply to the dog.
"Stop it, Pal!"
Pal subsided and Pete said nasally, "Blazer allus call't him Buster."
"He's Pal now."
Jeff set a plate of bacon and eggs on the table and put bread and butterbeside it.
"You may as well start, Dan."
Unable completely to erase the anger from his eyes, not speaking, Dansat down and began to eat. Jeff put the bacon and eggs he had intendedfor himself on another plate. Thoughtfully he set the plate on the otherside of the table, two places away from the furious Dan.
"Here you are, Mr.--?"
"Whitney's the name. Pete Whitney."
"I'm Jeff Tarrant and this is Dan Blazer."
"Yeah?" Interest leaped in Pete's eyes. "Any kin to John?"
"He was my pop!" Dan flared. "That you know very well!"
"Dan, mind your manners!" Jeff remonstrated, putting more bacon and eggsin the skillet.
"I'm minding them! He knows who my pop was and he knows me!"
Pete, who had been eating as though finishing the meal was a job he hadto complete in a great hurry, put his fork down and bent over his plate.Again Jeff thought uncomfortably of a hunted animal, and though he couldnot see Pete's eyes, he was sure that they were once more venom-ridden.There was an awkward silence which Pete broke.
"Seems to me I do mind a young'un comin' to see John."
Dan flared again. "Do you also 'mind' that my pop was shot? Maybe youeven know who shot him!"
"Dan!" Jeff thundered.
For a few seconds Pete lingered over his food. Then it was as though hehad thought out a decision which had been hard to make. He speared halfan egg, curled a whole strip of bacon on the end of his fork, shovedeverything into his mouth and began to chew noisily.
"Nao," he said. "I wouldn't knaow who done fer John."
"Dan's upset," Jeff explained. "He didn't realize what he was saying."
An explosive, "I did, too" lingered on Dan's lips and died there when hecaught Jeff's eyes. As the latter turned to lift his own breakfast outof the skillet, Pete nodded vigorously.
"Likely. Likely. Young'uns do get upsot. What be ye doin' here?"
Jeff said smoothly, "We represent Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd., and camebecause we thought we could do some business around Smithville."
Pete's shifty eyes found Jeff's pack. "Peddler, huh?"
"Some people call it that."
"Whar'd ye find the dog?"
"Over beyond Cressman. He made himself at home with us."
Jeff put his own plate on the table and began to eat. Pete mopped up thelast of his breakfast with a crust of bread, plopped it into his mouth,and licked his fingers. That done, he picked up the conversation whereit had been dropped.
"Take care he ain't kil't."
"Take care who isn't killed?"
"The dog. He turned right snarly after Blazer was kil't. Bill Ellis'd ashot him if he hadn't took a mind to run away."
"Did he hurt anybody?"
"Nao. But he had a mind to."
Pete leaned back, looking at the ceiling and cleaning his teeth with histongue. He asked suddenly, "Whar'd ye get the young'un?"
For a moment Jeff fumbled. But Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd., had taughthim that it was not a good idea to be at a loss long enough to letanyone else think t
oo far ahead of him. He said glibly, "Dan was farmedout to me."
Jeff referred to the common practice of placing with accredited peoplewho would support them, youngsters who had no other place to turn. Danglared. Jeff did not look at him.
Pete Whitney said, "You git a smart lot of work out'en a farmed-outyoung'un if you whomp him to it."
Jeff's next words erased Dan's glare. "Dan doesn't need 'whomping.'We're full partners."
"Aoh."
There was another silence. Finally Pete Whitney asked, "What yepeddlin?"
"What do you need?"
"I ast you."
"Cash or swap?"
"Swap." Pete looked surprised that anyone should think he had cash.
"What can you swap?"
Pete reached inside his shirt and drew out a knife. It was much cruderthan the works of art Jeff had had from Bart Whitney. But it was sturdy,and the blade, Jeff thought wryly, was certainly keen enough topenetrate anything that Pete might have reason to stab. Since there wasa buyer for everything, it stood to reason that there would be a buyerfor Pete's knife. Jeff went to his pack, took out a cheap jackknife, acompass and a wrapped parcel. He extended the knife.
"I'll swap even for this."
Pete accepted the knife, opened it, tried the blade on the back of hishorny hand, and passed it back.
"Nao. That piddlin' thin'd bend on rabbit fur."
Enjoying himself, as he always did when bartering, Jeff handed thecompass over. Pete looked at it. Puzzled, he glanced back at Jeff.
"Do it tell the hour?"
Dan laughed. Jeff explained. "It's called a compass. See? The needlealways points north. Anyone who carries this can tell any direction atall."
Pete was honestly astounded. "You mean they's some what cain't?"
"There are some, but I thought you wouldn't be one of them!"
He spoke admiringly, stressing the "you." Sales resistance faded tonothing if the seller, while convincing the buyer that he was much to beadmired, could at the same time build up the buyer's opinion of himself.Like a good showman, Jeff had saved his masterpiece for last. Heunwrapped the parcel to reveal a cheap box whose exterior was stampedwith gaudy green dragons. Pete regarded it with narrowed eyes.
"This," Jeff said smoothly, "I offer to very few customers. Now ifyou'll just keep your eye on the box--"
Pete obliged, bending so closely that his face was no more than sixinches from the box. Jeff pressed a button. The lid flew open and agreen bellows surmounted by a grinning clown's head sprang up to hitPete on the nose. He leaped backward, flung himself from the table andcrouched. Again Jeff thought of an animal. But this time it was a beastof prey. And it was ready to strike.
The jack that had leaped out of the box quivered on the table, swayingthis way and that. Completely astounded, Pete regarded it for a moment.Then sheer delight flooded his eyes.
"I swan!"
Jeff said proudly, "Ever see anything like that?"
"Put it back!"
Jeff pressed the jack into place. Uncertainly, still a little fearful ofsuch magic, Pete came near. He extended a hand and immediately withdrewit.
"Do it ag'in!"
Jeff pressed the button and the performance was repeated. Sure now thatthere was nothing to fear, Pete picked the toy up and looked at itclosely. He pushed the jack down, latched the cover, and pressed thebutton. When the clown's head flew up, he tittered nervously.
"I swan!"
"For that I must have two knives."
"Got but one."
Jeff frowned. The jack-in-the-box was a cheap trinket and the knife wasworth four times as much. But Pete considered the jack a very valuableobject and Jeff hoped to do much trading around Smithville. He did notwant to be known for accepting the first thing offered and, besides,that was bad business. It took all the sport out of trading.
"Have to have something to boot," he said firmly.
"I got this."
From his sagging pocket Pete took a length of braided horsehide. But ithad been so skillfully cured and so expertly braided that it was strongas rope and pliable as the finest cloth. It would make a wonderfulbridle rein, but Jeff said hesitantly, "I don't know what I'd use itfor."
"Fer tyin' things."
"Well--" Jeff allowed himself to be convinced.
Pete sprung the jack again and again, fascinated by this simple thingwhich smacked of magic, because never before had he seen anything likeit. Then, holding his jack-in-the-box as though it were eggshells, hemade the swift transformation from fascinated child to dangerous man.
"Stick to peddlin'," he said shortly, and took his leave.
It was at the same time a threat and a warning and Jeff knew it. For amoment he sat still, then got up and strolled quietly to the window.Going down the path, Pete Whitney sprung the jack and his titteringgiggle seemed again to be heard in the room.